


Official Meetings

by MojaveMusing



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:53:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29575683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MojaveMusing/pseuds/MojaveMusing
Summary: Remington knew of Craig Boone, but never actually met him.
Kudos: 3





	Official Meetings

Remington would often travel through Novac, going between Boulder City and Charlie. Once a month she would stop at the hotel there, delivering mail to the retired soldiers who lived there.

Remington would arrive around ten in the morning when she left from Charlie and she would first go to the Dinosaur towering over the landscape, saying hello to Cliff, trading knick-knacks before climbing the stairs to see Manny. After spending a while speaking with Manny, Remington would leave the belly of the dinosaur and walk across the courtyard to where Craig and Carla Boone lived. 

Remington never actually met Craig, he was the night sniper so he was fast asleep at eleven by the time Remington knocked on the door. 

Carla would answer. 

Carla was a beautiful woman. She looked like she was pulled off a pre-war movie poster, tanned skin that was free of any blemishes of wasteland living, neat brown hair often styled perfectly. Sometimes Carla even wore red lipstick, and Smokey eyeshadow, really completing the celebrity look.

Remington knocked on the door and Carla answered a moment later. 

“For your husband,” Remington handed the envelopes over. “Um, Manny told me that you guys are going to have a kid. Congrats.”

Carla hesitated for a second before a small smile pulled at her lips. “Thank you, Remington.” 

“You’re welcome.” Remington smiled, “Have a good day.”

…

Remington left the dinosaur and walked across the dusty courtyard. Manny was not as talkative as he usually was, but Remington did not pry to see why. The little town felt wound tight. 

Remington knocked on the door and waited. 

It would always take Carla just a minute to open the door but three passed without the door swinging open.

Remington knocked again louder.

She could hear movement in the room

There was a dull thud of something falling over.

The door swung open and it was not Carla who stood on the other side. 

It was a man. His hair was cropped close, but looked like it was in need of a trim. His eyes were completely bloodshot, with deep bags under them. His clothes were wrinkled like he had been sleeping in them, but it looked like he had not slept in weeks.

“Uh,” Remington hesitated, “Craig Boone?”

“Yes.” He answered sharply.

“I’ve got mail for you.” Remington held the envelope out to him.

He grabbed the envelope out of her hand, not quite aggressive but not friendly either. 

“Thanks.” Craig Boone said before closing the door.

Remington felt rooted into the spot.

Where was Carla Boone?

Her hand itched to reach back out and knock on the door. To ask what was wrong. 

It wasn’t her place though. 

Maybe next month.

...

Remington was off her schedule. There was a group of Jackals trying to score at Ranger Station Charlie.

The fire fight was over in minutes but the aftermath and cleanup took about all day. Thankfully there were no losses for the Republic but they still had to take care of the Jackals that did not live to run away. 

And of course the paperwork. 

Nothing happened in the Republic without paperwork. Not that it helped.

Normally, Remington would not travel at night, but Novac was close and she didn’t want to be very late to the Dam the next day.

Remington rolled into Novac at ten at night.

The office was closed so she couldn’t rent a room, but that would be okay, the Dinosaur was unlocked.

Remington walked up the rickety steps and into the little room where Cliff sold his goods. Remington paced around the room, looking for a suitable stop to lay down her sleeping pack for the night. Somewhere out of the way so Cliff or Boone wouldn’t trip over her in the morning.

Boone. 

Remington stopped pacing, putting her bag in a corner. 

He would be awake. 

Remington walked up the stairs slowly. Thoughts racing as she ascended to the door at the top. 

She opened it and was met with a .308 hunting rifle pointed at her face wielded by a top NCR sniper.

Remington jumped putting her hands up, immediately identifying herself. “It’s Remington. NCR courier.”

“Goddammit!” Boone lowered the gun, “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“I’m sorry,” Remington apologized. This was the first time she saw him up right and lacking sleep. He wore the same red beret as Manny, standard issue canvas pants and white t-shirt, eyes hidden by sunglasses. His hair was a little longer than before, like he had not cut it in a few weeks. Remington recovered from the pause, “We haven’t officially met. I’m Remington.”

Boone nodded, “Boone. You bring the mail.”

“That I do.” Remington let silence hang there for a second. “I heard what happened. I’m sorry.”

His whole body was tense and uncertainty radiated off of him. Boone did not say anything.

Remington did not expect him to.

Remington pulled out his envelope from her pocket and handed it over to him. Boone gently took it from her.

“I’ll be down stairs sleeping.” Remington gestured over her shoulder, “I’m taking off in the morning, but if you need me to get anything from the NCR just let me know, I’ll bring it by next time I am through.”

“Thank you.” Boone said, he seemed to genuinely be appreciative.

…

Remington’s wrist watch read six in the morning when she woke up to the sound of Boone descending the stairs. His shift shouldn’t be over yet.

His footsteps stopped short of Remington’s bed roll.

“Good Morning.” Remington greeted quietly.

“Do you know anyone in town?” Boone asked.

“Besides you and Manny, no.” Remington answered, she was confused by his question. 

“Good.” Boone took a tense breath. “Legionnaires took Carla. They knew exactly where to go, how to avoid my watch, what room to go to. Someone in this town told them where to go.”

Remington sat in silence, watching the lenses of Boone’s sunglasses. Her blood began to boil at the mention of the Legion.

“I want your help to find out who.” Boone shifted his weight, somewhat awkwardly, “The people here don’t know you well, maybe they will let something slip—.”

“I’ll do it.” Remington cut him off. He didn’t need to convince her. “I’ll find out who betrayed you.”

…

Manny’s room was a bachelor’s room. Messy, and had a system of organization only the creator could navigate. Remington watched from the old couch as Manny dug through the corner desk where a Pre-War terminal sat.

“I’ve known Craig since we were first picked for the first recon,” Manny moved stacks of papers. “He didn’t talk much then either, but he was always game to follow me into trouble.” 

Manny let out an ‘ah ha’ as he found what he was looking for.

“Carla was a woman that took some getting used to.” Manny placed a photo in Remington’s hand. 

The photo, in rare color, was of Manny, Boone and a woman Remington recognized as Carla. She and Manny were smiling wide, and Boone had an awkward yet joyful look on his face. They looked so happy.

Remington handed the picture back to Manny, “Getting used to?” 

“Yeah,” Manny sat down on the corner of his unmade bed. “Carla was the kind to tell you if she was unhappy with you. She didn’t hide any of her opinions.”

“Is that something that would have garnered her enemies?”

“Easily, there were times where she even made me angry with her.” Manny sighed, “When Craig told me that she was gone, I was as shocked has he was; but ya know how it is, saying something dumb when you shouldn’t. Craig hasn’t talked to me since.”

“I’m sorry, Manny,” Remington spoke softly.

“It’s okay.” Manny paused. “I just hope you find you did this.”

…

No-Bark was crazy; no doubt about it. His ramblings took several tangents and often went nowhere. Remington went along, nodding her head as he told her about the Commie Ghosts at Repconn who did not know they were dead. But when she looked past the tales of commie ghosts there was good information. Mole men, or Legionnaires as Remington deduced, stopped in the hotel lobby the night Carla was taken. 

Boone had told her someone directed the Legionaries, someone with intimate knowledge of the town. A question begged to be answered, why would the slavers stop at the lobby before they took Carla? There was no sign of forced entry into the room, only evidence was a struggle, Boone had told her, recalling the clearly painful memory. Carla either let them in, or they had a key.

Remington left her room and went to the hotel lobby. It was small, tidy, not a single item out of place. Behind the counter Jeannie-May looked up and greeted her.

“Hello there Remington, are you enjoying your stay in Novac?” Jeannie-May’s voice sounded practiced. Remington knew Jeannie-May wanted to look perfect, not a hair mussed, or wrinkle in her clothes.

“I’m having a fine time,” Remington replied, leaning against the counter, “I wanted to ask you some questions if you didn’t mind.”

“What can I do for you?” Jeannie-May asked.

“What can you tell me about Carla, Boone’s wife?” 

Jeannie-May tensed, her brow furrowed. “She was a beautiful woman. It was a shame what happened to her.”

“Is that all you can tell me?” Remington pressed. 

“Unfortunately, yes.” Jeannie-May snapped. “I recommend you leave Novac’s past alone, Miss Remington.”

Remington pursed her lips, “I’m sorry I asked.”

It was easy to connect the dots. 

It was also easy picking the lock to the safe once Jeannie-May had gone to bed. 

It was too easy finding the Bill of Sale for one Mrs. Carla Boone.

One bullet from a dinosaur’s mouth and Jeannie-May’s corpse was staining the pavement red. Remington tried hard not to catch glimpses of it as Boone read over the Bill of Sale for his wife.

She instead focused on how Boone desperately tried to keep his hands from shaking. His intense eyes on the verge of tears behind the sunglasses. Remington wanted to reach out and hug the man, but she knew he wouldn’t accept it.

“I’m sorry, Boone.” Remington whispered as Boone let himself drop back into the perch’s chair. 

Boone pulled off the beret and ran his hands over his growing hair.

“What are you going to do now?” Remington asked.

Boone shrugged his shoulders. “Not stay here.”

“Come with me.” The words left Remington quickly. 

“Where are you going?” Boone lifted his head from his hands looking at her over the lenses of his glasses.

“Anywhere the NCR sends a message.” Remington answered. 

Remington could see the gears turn in his head. He was unsure. 

“It’s not glamorous work but it can be dangerous. I would appreciate having you there with me.”

Boone averted his gaze for a moment, thinking it over. 

“I can let you sleep—,” Remington began but Boone interrupted her, looking at her again.

“I will go with you.” He said firm and sure.

Remington smiled.


End file.
